I just wanted to share with everyone a few moments of reprieve I felt these last few days. They were shortlived; but for those moments I actually felt alive again, like there is hope after all of life after grief. It doesn't sound like much, just a few moments; but after nearly 3 years of uninterrupted, abysmal despair, these few moments were like precious drops of cool, clear water to a parched and dying woman.

So what was I doing when these moments of reprieve happened?  Just living. Grocery shopping, things like that. Nothing big, just everyday things while thinking about him and the things we did together. Maybe that's the answer: Just be. Live. Keep going and eventually little by little by little life and strength will be restored. Keep thinking of him. Celebrate his life rather then letting myself be consumed with his death. And fear not: my Father and I shall see each other again. I just wish it didn't take so long. TLN.